


Monster

by Mothman_Is_My_Lord



Series: Demon Dean [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Dean, M/M, Me having Demon Dean feels, maybe angst???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 11:56:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18387959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothman_Is_My_Lord/pseuds/Mothman_Is_My_Lord
Summary: While struggling with the Mark (and recently beating up his best friend) Dean runs to a bar to drown his sorrows. However, Sam and Cas meet him there, ready to force him back to the bunker.





	Monster

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm having Demon Dean feels. Or as some people call him, Deanmon.
> 
> I've decided to make this small series of little scenes and things I think about while Dean was a Demon to show everyone's emotions and how they're dealing with it.
> 
> As for the title, I just so happened to listen to "Monster" by Imagine Dragons for the entirety of this work.

Something within the depths of Dean’s mind told him- warned him that he was out of control. That nothing good came from whatever he told himself. From whatever he told himself he wanted to be. This was bad.

Dean had never hated Crowley. Sure, they guy was annoying at times and Dean wanted nothing more to deck him in the face but he’d never actually do it unless the demon gave him a good reason.

 

Shoving the guy because he wanted Dean to follow the rules and keep a balance in Hell that the eldest Winchester didn’t realize was such a big deal wasn’t a good reason. 

 

It was a horrible reason, actually. But that little human part of his brain left was the only thing keeping Dean from murdering everyone he walks past. Human, animal, monster- Dean just wanted to stab everything. It was an addiction that he couldn’t get passed. One that wouldn’t shut up no matter how much alcohol he drank, no matter how many times he tried to sedate it by giving in. It always wanted more.

 

And that’s why he left.

 

He didn’t leave the bunker abruptly because he was a demon and wanted to do something more suitable for himself. Dean left because the moment he woke up with black eyes the craving was the only prominent feeling within his bones. He wasn’t thinking about Sam or the fact that Crowley was hovering over his bed telling him he was a demon. The only thing he could think about was the itch, the need to kill something and the human part of him refused to kill either of the two. 

 

Before Metatron had stabbed him-  _ killed  _ him- the urge to stab everyone in the room was strong. Before he ever held the first blade, the Mark of Cain just made him more irritable. Unstable, Sam would probably say. Dean didn’t overly think about things, didn’t really care what happened all that mattered was that some part of him was pissed for no reason.

 

Than he held the first blade for the first time and that feeling he’d been struggling for weeks finally came glaringly obvious. So obvious it burned and he immediately dropped the blade as if it had physically burned him. 

 

It wasn’t so much that he was pissed. It was more that everyone he talked to his mind was screaming to kill them all. The blade opened up a reservoir. One that withheld so much willpower that Dean had suddenly lost. 

 

No matter how much the mark screamed at him, practically killing the human part of Dean just as Metatron had, he never believed it’d drive him to hurt the only people he cares about.

 

Well. We all know how that goes.

 

He chased Sam through the halls of the bunker with a hammer just like some psycho horror movie. He even beat the crap out of Cas, nearly stabbing the angel with his own blade because the demon part of Dean said if felt right. The two people he cares about most nearly died because of Dean’s idiotic decision to gain the mark just because it could kill Abaddon. 

 

There was no going back from any of that.

 

And yet, both Sam and Cas went to great lengths to capture him again. 

 

Dean was at a bar (big shocker there), when he saw the familiar trench coat out of the corner of his eye. He downed the drink in his hand, positive it was another illusion the human side of his brain played in guilt. The only difference this Castiel had from the other’s was his face was in tact. No sign of blood anywhere. He was just as handsome as he was minutes before, convincing Dean that he would stick with him no matter what, no matter how evil the mark made him.

 

Another difference from this one and all the other illusions was it started to stride towards Dean. 

 

At this point, the sheer power in those blue eyes became oh so noticable, and Dean realized that this Cas was the real deal. That and his brother’s moosely presence was around somewhere. Two things Dean must’ve missed around his tenth drink.

 

Note: Demon’s don’t get drunk as easily as humans do. Fun to a point. Aggravating when all you want to do is forget your worries and now you have to wait longer.

 

They took his blade away, leaving him with hunting knives. The cold silver was suddenly made very aware against Dean’s skin as his hand went to pull it out. He hesitated, however. The human part of his brain taking the reins.

 

That control wouldn’t last for long. It never did.

 

Cas must’ve saw the fidget in Dean’s hand as he walked over because the moment it nearly reached his waistband, the angel said his name in a scolding voice.

 

“Where’s, Sammy? I can tell he’s around here but as to where I’m curious. Not like a man his size can hide in a crowd.” Dean held his hand up to signal the bartender for another one. “You’re looking good there, angel. Healed up nicely. You know, the human part of me was screaming at you to fight back but you never did. I mean I want to say I’m shocked but we all have our reasons.”

 

Cas’ mouth thinned. “Me and Sam came to take you back to the bunker.”

 

“Figured as much.” The bartender regretfully filled Dean another drink. The semi-demon downed it in one go. “What more do you two have up your sleeve at this point? Human blood, tried that. Book of the Damned…” Charlie’s body flashed in his head. “Dead end.”

 

“None of us are giving up until you’re back to yourself.” Cas stated it as if it was a fact. Dean scoffed.

 

“And why do you care so much? I was broken before hand, even a douche. If anything, I’m better now. At least now there’s nothing holding me back.” 

 

Before Dean could wave the bartender back over, Cas took the shot glass and slid it across the table out of Dean’s reach. “You were not- are not broken. And this version of you? With the mark?” Dean glanced up, eyes challenging the electric blue laced with power. “I stand by what I said. No matter what you are I will always be here. But that doesn’t mean I won’t fight to make sure the old you- the version of you that a lot of people loved- is back.” 

 

_ Loved _ . Dean almost cracked up at that word. Who could love him? Demon, human, whatever; he was unlovable. He put on a big front most of the time, got everyone he cares about injured or worse, and was a dick because he didn’t want people to help him because he was  _ strong _ and could take care of himself. 

 

“You do understand that that’s how I roll, right?” Cas tilted his head. “Something in my life goes right and I manage to screw it up. Say, a lot of people did love me before all of this.” His voice was sarcastic, and he could tell Cas wanted to argue but otherwise stayed quiet in favor of hearing what Dean had to say. “How could they love me now? I went and got the Mark of Cain, practically screwing my life over and causing everyone I know unbelievable pain.” For the first time, there was sadness within dark green eyes. They were dimmer since Dean became a demon. 

 

“I chased Sam through the bunker with a  _ hammer _ . I terrified Claire. I got Rudy killed because I couldn’t function correctly. And I beat the crap out of you.” If Dean weren’t a demon, his voice would’ve broke. The demon part of him was tempted to put on a show and catch Castiel off guard by making the angel believe the mark was losing its effect but that plan was foiled by the strong bitchface burning the back of Dean’s head.

 

Turning around, he finally saw where Sam was. Dean put on a show back at the bunker the first time he had to be captured and now it seemed Sam learned quickly. It took a lot in Dean not to grin at his taller brother- a grin to cause the younger man unease. Did Sam see the after affects of what Dean didn’t to Cas a few days ago? 

 

The cold sting of handcuffs securing around Dean’s wrists caused him to turn back around to see Cas’ determined face. Instead of complaining, Dean grinned.

 

“Remember, angel.” The pet name caused Cas to tighten his jaw. “I said next time I wouldn’t miss.” 


End file.
